


Who we Grew to Be

by Curlscat



Category: The Sisters Grimm - Michael Buckley
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Nerdiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlscat/pseuds/Curlscat
Summary: Daphne and Pinocchio, through the years.
Relationships: daphne grimm/pinocchio
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	Who we Grew to Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sasspan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasspan/gifts).



> my holiday gift exchange for Saati! I was GOING to do a Beautilocks something but that will happen LATER, I think.

Daphne and Pinocchio do not grow up together. That would be too easy. Daphne stalls out for a little bit at eleven, when she gets her first zit, but besides that, she grows like any human child: straight through. 

Pinocchio, on the other hand, grows in fits and starts. He’s been cursed that way, because the Blue Fairy, his absent mother, takes as much as she gives. All her blessings have a little bit of the monkey’s paw about them, so he only grows as old as he acts, forever cursed to act his own age.

The upshot of this is that they don’t spend much time together in childhood. Daphne is much closer to Red, who grows at the same pace she does. Pinocchio, too, is closer to Red. They live in the same house, after all. And Red may be aging at the same pace as her best friend, but she’s got a sort of ageless quality about her that makes it easy for Pinocchio to spend time with her no matter how different their ages are, physically.

Oh, they see each other nearly all of every summer, when Henry and Veronica pack up their rarely-used car to make the drive up from NYC to Ferryport Landing, towing their children with them. Summers are nice. Daphne likes summer, when she has her whole family together in Granny’s newly-renovated ramble of a house for two entire months. Even Puck and Uncle Jake are nearly always there.

But they don’t  _ hang out _ . Daphne out-ages Pinocchio for the first two years, the growing difference between seven and nine not nearly as much of an impediment as Pinocchio’s snobby brattishness. Then he makes a leap forward, catching up and almost outstripping her to ten. They leapfrog their way through childhood, only matching up briefly every few years. Then he makes a final jump from sixteen and moody to somewhere much closer to twenty, and he’s off to university while Daphne is still sixteen herself, and he throws himself into the kind of universities that he now looks old enough to be a student at.

Sixteen is a weird time. They’re the same age, for once, and they’re together in Granny’s house, for the last time, it’ll later turn out. Pinocchio spends a lot more time with her than usual, but he’s grumpier than he’s been since he was ten, demanding her attention one minute and then scoffing at her the next. Sabrina rolls her eyes and tells him to get his act together, but she’s mostly too busy hate-flirting with Puck to explain what she means, even though she gives Daphne knowing looks whenever pressed.

Then Granny dies, and Daphne’s family shatters.

Puck and Uncle Jake disappear to opposite corners of the globe. Sabrina and Pinocchio go back to school and if Daphne didn’t drag her sister home over the weekends, she’d never see her. Her parents start fighting, both of them either at work or at home but not present. Mr. Canis is so heartbroken that Red is spending all her time, nearly, with him, trying to make him eat or sleep or smile. Basil is furious and heartbroken by turns, begging Daphne for hugs one moment and screaming at her the next. Daphne feels like she’s alone, pulling at a dozen different strings that are all tied to people running as hard as they can in opposite directions. Like she’s being drawn and quartered by her own grief, by her own desire to keep her family together.

It doesn’t come to a head at any one point. It’s several smaller heads, a million little breaks, separate scenes where Daphne begs each of her family members to come back to her one by one. Most of them do. Puck and Pinocchio don’t.

And she gets it. She knows, from the way Mr. Canis and her dad look at her sometimes, that she’s the most like Granny out of all of them. She’s got her grandmother’s righteous indignation and need to help everyone, her rigid moral compass that even she knows is a little shy of true north, her big, enormous heart. Of course it’ll hurt to come back to her. Of course it’ll be like looking at the little imperfect shadow of the woman they’ve lost, the woman who loved them when nobody else would.

It doesn’t make her any less furious at them. And, for a year or two, she’s almost glad they’ve stayed away, her hurt turning into anger.

Fast forward again, to Sabrina’s wedding. By this point, Pinocchio has sort of been back in her life, by virtue of being back in Red’s life. He’s halfway through a doctorate in history, and Daphne’s learned through Red that he wants to get more, in anthropology and archaeology, among other things. He wants to get all the doctorates, from the sound of it.

Sabrina’s wedding goes strangely. Daphne may have meddled a little bit. Just a tiny, tiny bit. But it’s not her fault Sabrina kept moping about Puck. It was super obvious. And Bradley’s a nice guy and all, and Daphne knows Sabrina loves him, but it’s not gonna be a happy marriage if they don’t at least get all the Puck baggage out in the open. So she meddles. Finds Puck, pulls him out of his five-year mope, and throws him at the wedding.

It’s a mess, obviously. There’s a huge scene at the wedding, it sort of falls apart, a lot of forgetful dust has to be spread around. At the end of it, Daphne’s left standing, exhausted, with an empty bag of forgetful dust, watching the last of the guests leave. Or, at least, she thought it was all the guests.

“Are you cleaning up as penance?” someone says behind her, in an absolutely gorgeous voice.

“Come again?” She turns, and there’s Pinocchio, in all his dark academia glory. He’s grown into his nose, though it’s still a striking centerpiece to his face.

“For turning your sister’s wedding into a fiasco,” he clarifies. “I assume that was you.”

“Maybe,” she says, trying for teasing. It comes out a little more flirtatious than she meant it. What? He’s cute, okay?

“How—how have you been?” Pinocchio asks.

He could’ve asked her that any time in the past five years. Any time. She’s honestly kind of surprised he came to the wedding. She will not give him the cold shoulder, though. She won’t. She’s better than that now.

“I’m all right,” she says. “In college. You?”

“Also in college,” Pinocchio says. He gives her a small smile.

She smiles back. It’s all very awkward. She starts gathering up wedding decorations.

“I, uh,” Pinocchio says after a minute. “I think I owe you an apology.”

Damn right he does. She doesn’t say that, though. She  _ does _ look at him expectantly.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, not making eye contact. “After—Well. You know. I shouldn’t have run away like that. I was hurting, and spending time around anyone who knew your grandma just made me think about how  _ much _ I hurt. So I ran away. And that wasn’t fair. Because you were all hurting, too, and I know you, especially, wanted everyone to stay close.”

“Very nicely said,” Daphne approves. “Did Red coach you on it?”

“Only a little,” Pinocchio admits. “But I mean it. All of it.”

“All right,” Daphne says. And she takes a deep breath, the way she’s been practicing with Cindy, and she lets the anger go. “I forgive you. But only if you’re done hiding.”

“I am,” he says, and he smiles at her.

They keep in contact after the wedding. Pinocchio still has a tendency to bury himself in books and forget about other humans, but if she texts him, he’ll text back the same day. Usually. She tells him about the weird things going on between Puck, Sabrina, and Bradley. Occasionally he’ll send her an unprompted message ranting about something she has only the vaguest understanding of. She’ll patch it together across the pages her phone’s divided it into and have wikipedia open for reference as she reads. They go out for coffee at least once a month, sometimes with Red, sometimes without her.

Daphne refuses to ask him for help with her homework. Getting a degree in social work requires a lot more of the hard sciences than she’d anticipated. It’s frustrating, but it’s worth it. She’s gonna be able to help people, when she’s done with this. Everafters and humans alike. Oh, Sabrina’s got her child advocacy law thing going on, and that’s great, but Daphne’s determined to help people before they get to the point where the courts have to get involved. And she’s  _ not _ going to do it by depending on Pinocchio for help. She can do this on her own.

But as she moves from her bachelor’s to the postgrad degree it’s apparent she’s going to need if she wants to actually get a, y’know,  _ job _ in her field, she does start complaining to Pinocchio more. They’re at the same university, Pinocchio now well into an anthropology degree, so they hang out at the library pretty often, their noses buried in separate books or laptops.

Pinocchio’s funny. She’d forgotten about that, or never really learned it. He’s got a dry sense of humor, and he’s sarcastic like you wouldn’t believe. He’s fun to be around.

“I had a crush on you, you know,” he tells her one day, apropos of nothing, as he stretches in his chair, taking a break from whatever he’s working on right now.

“What?” Daphne pauses, not sure she’s heard him right. She’s been pretty intent on putting together a case study review.

“When we were, oh, sixteen or so,” Pinocchio says. It’s too casual to be anything but feigned. He knows exactly how old they were. “G-d, you were so—friendly. Overwhelmingly so.”

“Am I not friendly anymore?” Daphne asks, but she’s teasing.  _ Friendly _ . What a reason to get a crush on someone!

“Nope,” Pinocchio teases right back. “Downright unpersonable. I must be rubbing off on you.”

“If Sabrina couldn’t turn me into a grouch, you’re definitely not gonna manage it,” Daphne says with an easy grin. “This new ‘unpersonable’ thing is all me, baby.”

“The world has worn on you,” Pinocchio says with a melodramatic sigh. “You’ve finally lost your childlike joy.”

“Only took twenty-three years,” Daphne says with a grin. The conversation dies for a minute, then Daphne brings it back. “Why bring it up now?”

Pinocchio shrugs. “I was just thinking about it. Thinking about back then. It was nice. I miss it.”

“You barely talked to me!” Daphne says with a laugh.

Someone two tables over glares at her, and she gives them an apologetic wave and a smile.

“I was shy!” Pinocchio protests. “I didn’t know how to talk to someone I  _ liked _ ! Let alone someone who was  _ in my house _ the whole summer!”

“Fair enough,” Daphne agrees. “I hope you know this is teasing fodder for  _ forever _ , though.”

“Oh no,” Pinocchio says, deadpan again. “What will I ever do. You’ve never teased me before in my life. I don’t think I can handle it.” He pauses, then says, “You don’t seem surprised. That I liked you.”

“What can I say?” Daphne winks at him. “Nobody can resist my charms.”

“Fair enough,” Pinocchio says, giving her a shrug. Then he goes back to studying.

Time passes. Daphne graduates, can’t get a job through normal channels, but gets herself employed working for Faerie. Pinocchio teases her about nepotism, but listen. If there were anyone else qualified, she wouldn’t need to do this job. She and Pinocchio don’t spend all their time together in the library anymore, but they do meet up for lunch, and dinner, and sometimes breakfast. Someone has to make sure he remembers to eat, after all.

Several months into seeing each other nearly every day, by choice rather than by ease, something occurs to Daphne. 

“Are we dating?” she asks.

Pinocchio chokes a little. “What?”

“Are we dating?” she repeats, emphasizing each word a little more clearly.

“How would we be dating?”

“We see each other almost every day,” Daphne starts, ticking her points off on her fingers as she goes. “We go out to dinner together, just the two of us. We watch movies together. We hang out in each other’s apartments. I text you almost as much as I text my brother and sister, and more than I text Red. When I have news, you’re the first person I want to tell. You leave your little nerd fort to hang out with me.”

“I mean—” Pinocchio splutters. “You’re— Dating usually involves a certain amount of  _ intent _ , doesn’t it?”

Well, yeah, okay, there’s that. But Daphne’s stumbled into relationships before, only realized what they were partway through. Love is messy like that. But, well. Pinocchio likes things to be clearly labeled. People don’t come naturally to him the way they do to her.

“Would you  _ like _ this to be dating?” she asks.

“Would  _ you _ ?” he counters, still spluttering and blushing.

Would she?

She thinks about all the things she listed, about how she wants to spend time with him, about the way he’s comfortable. About his dry sense of humor, about his stupid handsome face, about the way, every time she sees him she’s struck, a little, by the sight. About how it makes her heart beat faster. She’d put it down to his being one of the hottest men she’s ever seen, but that should probably have worn off sometime in the past few years, right?

“Yes,” she decides. She would like to date him.

“Oh,” Pinocchio says. His blush deepens.

He says nothing else for a long minute, and Daphne starts blushing too. “If you don’t—I mean, I—listen. It doesn’t. I’ve gotten crushes on friends before. If you don’t want to date me, that’s fine. It doesn’t have to change anything. We can forget this whole conversation!” Because she’d rather keep his friendship than anything else.

“No!” Pinocchio rushes in. “No, that’s not—I just—I mean—” he’s stumbling over her words, now, the two of them talking over each other to explain themselves, when he says, “I like you too!”

“Oh,” Daphne says, stopping abruptly. “You do?” She smiles at him.

“Yeah,” Pinocchio says. “I think I never really stopped.”

“That,” Daphne says, reaching a hand forward to grab at Pinocchio’s, “was downright romantic, you handsome sweetie.”

Pinocchio gives her a dopey, lovestruck smile. Then, after a long moment, he says, “So are we dating then?”

Daphne laughs, twines their fingers together. “Yes,” she says. “Yes, we are.”


End file.
